


No rom-com bullshit

by Renalia



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, First Kiss, Fluff, I just want them to be happy, Jon is a little angsty, M/M, but thats just his personality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 14:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19021939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renalia/pseuds/Renalia
Summary: “We’re not going to do this- this stupid rom com thing anymore.” Jon blurts out. He had planned what he was going to say when he got Martin in here. This was not it.





	1. Chapter 1

Jon locks the door of his office behind them, Martin quirks an eyebrow as he hears the lock click into place but seems to decide it not worth commenting on. Yet.

“We’re not going to do this- this stupid rom com thing anymore.” Jon blurts out. He had planned what he was going to say when he got Martin in here. This was not it. His original speech had involved a lot about tempering expectations and careful planning but being in a locked room with Martin had thrown all that out the window in an instant. For better or worse, judging by how high Martin’s eyebrows were now it was probably worse, this was the road they were going down now.

“I’m sorry, what? Are you feeling alright?” Martin walks towards him, trapping Jon between his body and the door as he places the back of his hand on Jon’s forehead. Martin’s warm hand feels like its branding him, burning into the cool skin of his forehead. Jon’s breath faulters for a second, unable to decide if he should breathe in or out. He pulls his senses back, shaking Martin’s hand away with a flick of his head. Martin pulls back, faint lines of worry etching into his face. Jon pushes past him into the room so he can lean sit on the front edge of his desk

“We’re not doing the whole ‘will-they-won’t-they’ bullshit they love to put in those movies, blushing every time we get near each other, but always pulling away when the other draws near.” He’s suddenly aware that he’s waving his hands around to emphasise what he’s saying, he clamps them to the edge of the desk, “It all being super obvious to everyone but the couple. Being jealous when one of them speaks to someone else. All that unnecessary back and forth. We’re both too old for it.”

Martin hasn’t moved from where Jon left him, hovering unsure by the door.

“What are you saying?” Martin asks after a moment, breaking the tense silence that had hung between them. His expression is guarded while Jon jumbles the words around in his head, trying to find the way to say it without being a complete arse.

“I-uh,” the bravado that had gotten him through the first part of his plan left him, his words tripped over each other as the scramble to all come out at the same time, “listen to every-uh tape made. Not to mention the things I hear aroun- they don’t matter I suppose. People don’t know, they just guess, but they’re usually better guessers when it comes to these things than I am.” He forces out a hysterical sounding nervous chuckle that only results in Martin’s gaze changing from confused to concerned.

_Oh sod it._

“I’ve heard that you have uh- feelings for me.” Jon feels like he might faint. His pulse bounds like a physical entity, a trapped animal, desperately trying to escape his chest as he forces each and every syllable out of his mouth.

Martin’s face cycles through a few emotions, each as inscrutable to Jon as the last until Martin manages to school his face into something approaching neutral.

“I see.”

“I’ve always been bad at these things, I mean I basically dated Georgie for a month before I even realised that we were dating, and when I asked her if we were dating she was understandably confused because, after all, I was the one who asked her out apparently and-“ Jon snaps his mouth shut as he realises he’s babbling, a nervous trait from childhood rearing its head. He can hear his grandma snapping at him _‘Say what you mean boy and nothing more!’_. He takes a deep breath before continuing.  
“Anyway, I didn’t know how to deal with,” he gestures jerkily between them, “this, so I’ve ignored it, blamed circumstances and squashed it all down. But I’ve been reliably informed that that’s not a solution for personal problems and is quite mean, which I didn’t even realise, so I’m sorry about that.”

“So, what? Back off? Leave me alone? I’m fired?”  
Jon snaps his gaze back to Martin (when had he looked away, he wondered), finally seeing the hurt slipping through the neutral mask.

Jon cursed himself, for all the talking he’d just done he hadn’t even said what he wanted to say.

“No!” He speaks too loudly for the small space and his shout causes Martin to blink rapidly. “God no, quite the opposite. I-uh.” He stops, unable to force himself to say the words screaming in his head.

Martin’s expression softens, something on Jon’s face lets him step closer until he’s close enough to lay a hand on Jon’s shoulder, comforting but not rushing.

Jon takes a deep breath, holds it and releases. The fainting feeling recedes slightly.

“I might like you too,” he confesses in barely more than a whisper. He stares blankly over Martin’s should, the confession weighing too heavily to allow eye contact.

He starts when Martin’s other hand rests lightly on his cheek, gently directing him to make eye contact. His heart flutters wildly when he sees Martin smiling.

“Why do you know so much about rom-coms?”

The question surprises Jon, instantly breaking the tension coiled in his body, it forces it way out as bone deep laughter. He leans forward to steady himself, resting his forehead on Martin’s shoulder. Martin shifts his hand on Jon’s face to cup the back of his head as the other hand pulls them both closer, an almost hug. Jon barely notices as the giggles tremble through him.

The laughing subsides in fits and bursts but Jon leaves his head on Martin’s shoulder, enjoying the comfort of the quasi-hug.

“In an effort to not be like a rom-com,” Martin asks when the laughter seems to have completely stopped, “can I kiss you?”

Jon lifts his head and eschews words in favour of leaning in and kissing Martin.  
The angle is wrong at first, with Martin being taller than him and Jon making himself shorter still by being half perched on the desk, but Martin pulls back slightly and Jon follows, not wanting it to stop yet. Then they are both standing, chest to chest, Jon’s hand furled tight in the shirt above Martin’s shoulder blades. Then, all at once, its perfect.


	2. Chapter 2

“My relationships never last.”

Martin looks up at Jon, confused. They had been peacefully watching Golden Eye until Jon had thrown that sentence out into the aether of Martin’s flat. 

“Okay?” Martin prompts as he sits up, he’d slumped down throughout the movie until his head had rested in Jon’s lap, Jon’s fingers absentmindedly petting through his hair as they watched Bond save the world, but he feels this is a sitting up kind of conversation. 

Distractedly he hits pause on the remote, freezing Pierce Brosnan in the middle of a cocky smile, “What prompted that?”

Jon shrugged, his usual emotional constipation snapping back with full force.

“I’d love if you told me if I’ve done something to make you uncomfortable.” He leans over and presses a kiss to Jon’s cheek as the other man determinedly avoids eye contact. “I’d love to avoid ‘all that rom-com bullshit’.” As predicted, this draws a scoff out of Jon and breaks him out of his reverie, he tilts his head to meet Martin’s and returns the kiss chastely. 

“It’s nothing you’ve done, but-“Martin watches as Jon retreats into his head again and waits, giving him time to organise his thoughts. He sits back against the arm of the couch and opens his legs, inviting the other man to lean back against him. Jon, grateful for a way to avoid eye contact while explaining himself, scoots over to sit with his back to Martin’s front. 

Jon is quiet for long enough that Martin fears that he might have nodded off to avoid the conversation but he eventually speaks, his words slow and measured, attempting to convey without accusing.

“It’s just how things go,” he shrugs, the movement awkward in his current seat. 

“Hmm, and why do you think it’ll go that way this time?” He stops Jon picking at his thumb nail by entwining their right hands together palm to palm.

“They just always have. It’s fine in the beginning, people are happy with hugs and meals and little kisses.” Jon sighs, lifting their joined hands to press a kiss to their intertwined knuckles. “Then they want more an-“ his voice falters, a common issue when he talks about emotions, Martin knows he hate it, views it as a weakness on top of weakness. The words all lain before him but out of his grasp when he needs them most.

“and I can’t give more.” He grounds out, each word sounding hard won. “Then sometimes they say that’s fine, they can live without more. But they can’t. And they drift away. Or I push them away. Because they deserve more.” His grip on Martin’s hand is bordering on painful, his body tensing into stiff angles and pulling away as he becomes more and more agitated. 

“What about what you deserve then?” Martin slips an arm around his belly forcing him to relax back against him again, “do you think you’re doomed to be lonely? Unloved?”

The silence speaks volumes, not a silence of thought but resignation. Jon slumps back against him, the anger and fight leaving him all at once, replaced with anxiety so thick it seemed to radiate off him in waves. 

“And do you think so little of me? I broke into a spider filled flat for you once remember? I don’t do grand gestures like that lightly. And that was when you didn’t like me!” Jon doesn’t respond, happy to wallow in his anxieties now that they’ve been aired. Martin sighs, letting his fingers drum lightly against Jon’s stomach. 

“My instincts just want to swaddle you up from the outside world so no-one can ever hurt you again. But the fact of the matter is that I can’t fix this with some big romantic gesture or say something that’ll make you wake up tomorrow without all the hurt people have left you with. But I can promise you tomorrow. And tomorrow I can promise you tomorrow. And I can keep doing that until you believe me. Or maybe you never will. But at least I can always promise you tomorrow, so you will always have that to look forward to?”

Jon disentangles himself, twisting around to face Martin. His expression isn’t happy, Martin decides to label it ‘carefully optimistic’. Jon’s broken edges hidden again, hopefully a little less damaged than they were before.

“I thought you said no rom-com crap?”


	3. Chapter 3

Jon shifts restlessly again, pulling away from the loose hold he’d had around Martin’s back. It had gotten too hot. Too much. Too unsure. All of a sudden it had gone from comfortable to anxiety inducing. He curls around himself, pressing his back into Martin’s. He feels the spark of comfort that comes from being in contact with the other man, the calm that the contact with another living being bring - Martin specifically- crawls through his skin and soothes him. Then feeling of ‘not right’ hits again, it’s not enough, it’s too much, its uncomfortable. He groans in frustration as he turns again, Martin’s arm heavily drops across his chest, pinning him on his back. Martin doesn’t open his eyes but shifts to tuck his head into Jon’s neck, a sleepy chuckle ghosts past his lips and brushes over Jon’s neck.

“S’top movin’.”

Jon tries, he turns his head into Martin’s hair. The scent of his shampoo curling into his nose. He counts backwards from a thousand, recalling the dewy decimal categories that correspond with the numbers as he goes. It’s not enough, the feeling of ‘not right’ creeps up again as he fights it with as much as he can, desperately trying to think what part of the arts section 730 covers. His discomfort is palpable enough that Martin raises his head, Jon opens his eyes to find Martin looking at him. He brushes a hand gently over Jon’s face, pushing the hair back from his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

A low frustrated growl rumbles out of Jon before he notices he’s doing it. 

“I can’t – nothing’s comfortable. Everything is- it’s too much? But no its- I’m fine and then I can’t breathe and it’s too warm but it’s also not enough, its overwhelming and underwhelming all at the same time, and I get frustrated an- I should just get up and let you sleep. I’ll read some statements an-“

Martin rests his forehead on Jon’s, eyes slipping almost closed again, and Jon loses his train of thought. The contact is once again sweet ambrosia, comfort and calm. The undercurrent of anxiety hums, the fear that ‘this too will pass’ churns in his gut.

Martin presses his lips to Jon’s, too sleepy, too fleeting, to be called a kiss, but the intent the same. The message is clear: ‘no rom-com stupidity’

“Let me try something?” Martin asks against his mouth.

Jon’s head twitches minutely in something like a nod, as much as he can manage without dislodging Martin.

Martin lifts the rest of his body off the bed, the mattress creaking in vague protest.

“Let me know if I’m too heavy.”

He manoeuvres himself wholly above Jon before lowering himself to lie completely on top of him. Jon’s breath is taken away slightly as he adjusts to the taller man’s weight on top of him, there is a little wiggling as pointy bones are moved out of the way of soft flesh and then Martin practically melts into him, tucking his head back into the crook of Jon’s neck.

“Better?” he asks, muffled.  
Jon flexes his left foot, softly brushing the inside of Martin’s calf. He feels calm? The anxious scrabbling that usually takes up a sizeable chunk of his brain space has calmed, no more than white noise in the back of his brain. The urge to move goes with it, stifled by the heat of Martin’s body pressing him into the mattress.

“Much,” he decided, half pressing a kiss to Martin’s hair while trying not to move him too much.

“Good, now sleep.”

And, to Jon’s surprise, he finds himself already drifting off.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me more rom-com tropes so I can destroy them with Jon and Martin! This was so much fun to write. If you liked this, come say hello over at tumblr (lewis-renalia), I'm always ready to talk all thing Magnus Archives with people


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